Two years ago just as my neighbor, Barbara, left for a four-day trip, the florist delivered a bouquet of flowers to her door. The white hydrangeas- the star among colorful flowers – peaked out of the top of the plastic. The green stems, held in bondage with a rubber band, poked out at the opposite end. It was a hot summer day, and the flowers limped on Barbara’s welcome mat. I picked them up, put them in a vase of water to quench their thirst and sent Barbara a picture of her flowers.
The bouquet stayed on our table and made each dinner a little more elaborate. Some flowers bloomed – opening their inner core to the world and some withered and fell to their deaths on our table. The white hydrangeas flourished, and with each widening and expanding of itself, I grew enamored by its presence. When Barbara returned, my flower-sitting gig was up. And I gave her the budding, blooming, and withering vase of flowers. Barbara, with her years of wisdom, could see my admiration and pulled out a stem of hydrangeas and gave it to me.
My heart did a series of somersaults. My thoughts went on a journey of how to save it from its impending death. Could it be propagated? What could I do? Many Youtube videos later, I learned it could be saved, but only if I were to cut off the white flowers, remove a few leaves from the stem – leaving only one or two of the newest leaves at the top – and placing the stem into a vase of water. I did, and rested it on my window pane for months. I changed the water periodically, and soon, buds and leaves blossomed and tiny white roots grew from the stems. Last spring, I transferred the plant from the water into the soil, and from my windowsill to the backyard.
The hydrangeas plant is flowering now. And I wonder, will the flowers be white like the ones that adorned our dinner table two years ago? Or will they be pink or blue? This I learned is the mystery of hydrangeas: the color of the flower is dependent on the soil in which it grows. Barbara simply could not have known that her gifting of a stem of hydrangeas would bloom something anew in my life. That our family would watch stem and leaves and roots, grow. And now as spring draws nigh, we will watch the hydrangeas bud and bloom.
